Once per month on the 4th Tuesday at 8pm, I host a Tea and Chanting session at my shop, The Sacred Well in Oakland, CA. For each session, I prepare an intention for the group to consider, a new tea recipe to try, and a mantra that we will all chant 108 times. We then settle in to our meditation space, sip tea, chant, and increase our overall wholeness, wellness, and quality of energy with this practice. There is something really satisfying about this ritual. It clears and opens significant channels of energy and healing via the throat chakra.

I extend this experience in myTea and Incantation class in The Witch's Garden series as an exploration of how the art of drinking tea and chanting can positively affect the body, mind, and spirit. The throat, an important gateway of speech, song, breath, and consumption of food and drink, deserves lots of warm, kind, honeyed love. How many times per day do you find yourself talking, talking, talking or listening, listening, listening, and longing for silence? How often do you feel like you can't even catch a breath because you feel overrun and overwhelmed? We all feel that way sometimes. Drinking tea and chanting can be a great antidote to a loud and stressful environment, job, or life circumstances.

Incantation (chanting) is also an amazing magical tool for bringing about healing. A good chant, well-written, careful, delivered with intention and personal power, can vibrationally re-align the cells and tissues toward health via the water contained therein. If that water is steeped with healing herbs, all the better.

This month's Witch's Garden class yielded two new chants: one we wrote together and one I wrote for a specific purpose.

Together, our class came up with the following all-purpose chant for while one is preparing a healing tea:

"Thank you, herbs, for being gentleAs you aid me in my healing.Together we are making magicWith sun and rain and earthly blessings.Be a source of health and comfort.May our working be complete."

On my own, related to a friend's kidney stone, I wrote:

"Stone in ________'s kidneyTurn to sandTurn to sandDissolve into nothing At my commandThree times threeI call to theeDisperse and passDisperse and passDisperse and passPainlessly!So mote it be!"

My students also came up with some fantastic tea recipes as part of their homework. With their permission, I have shared a few below.

Going off sugar, truly eliminating it from one's diet will give you a nasty set of symptoms, including vicious headaches. Try the following home-remedy for when your brain is feeling the vice-grip of detoxification.

1 part meadowsweet1 part plantain 2 parts bilberries

chuck those bilberries in the bottomplace the meadowsweet and plantain in your favorite strainerpour just-boiled water over the ingredients and let steep at least 15 minutes.Enjoy the sweet aroma and headache-reducing qualities of the meadowsweet, while the plantain perks your butt back up as you deal with the coma-inducing effects of detoxification. Bilberries add in that bit of non-refined sweet your poor little corporeal self is craving - chomp them up!

(note to Larkin: meadowsweet also contains a bit of natural sweetener, which will taste very sweet indeed if you have been cutting out sugar.)

"Kind to My Body Detox Tea" by Metzalli

1part Dandelion root1Part Red Clover 1 Part Nettles1 Part Peppermint

Boil dandelion root in hot water for a few minutes before pouring water over the rest of the ingredients in a tea pot. Let this infuse for about 20 minutes before drinking.

(note to Metzalli: This one would be great for restoring the body after illness.)

Add juniper berries to 1.5 cups of water and bring to boil covered for 15 minutes.Remove from heat and add remaining four herbs. Infuse covered for 10 minutes. Strain and drink.

These herbs were selected in honor of the 4 elements and our ancestors.

Juniper berries (masculine/fire) attract positive energy and helps with psychic powers. It is also a diuretic, carminative, tonic, antiseptic and stomach, though should be avoid if you have a history of kidney disease.

Lemon balm (feminine/water) opens us to the Goddess' divine love. It is also a diaphoretic, carminative, febrifuge and tonic.

Vervain (feminine/earth) is known as the Witches' herb and protects, purifies and promotes peace. It is also a tonic, sudorific, expectorant, vulnerary, emetic, nervine, emmenagogue, and vermifuge.

Meadowsweet (feminine/air) is associated with love, divination, peace and happiness. It is also an anti-rheumatic, anti-inflammatory, stomachic, antacid, anti-emetic, and astringent.Catnip (female/water/ancestors) represents cat magic, love, beauty, and happiness. Cats are also known as magical beings who travel between realms, connecting the past, present, and future. Catnip is also an anodyne, antispasmodic, carminative, aromatic, diaphoretic, and nervine.

Catnip and vervain both have nervine properties, so only 1/2 part of each is used in this recipe.

All of these ingredients act on the heart/circulatory system, on the physical pump itself and/or on our energetic emotional center. This tea is about a conscious breathing in and out with love and gratitude; giving is receiving, and real prosperity. For me, working towards this frame of reference is essential for heart health.Medicinally, I use all of these ingredients for my overall well being, and incorporate them into a bigger regimen to achieve balanced cholesterol levels. It is working!!! For better heart health in the long term.

I say different versions of the following prayer when I leave offerings, do my daily walking prayer or anytime I want to just put it out there. I see in my mind's eye the image of the fiery sacred heart, mine, in my chest with upward turned hands extending forward in a gesture of offering to The Universe. I also see myself connected to the ground below and the heavens above through interconnected glowing white infinity symbols at each level. This way, the infinity symbols looks like a thread of never ending double helix, extending above and below with myself at the center.

"From my heart to the heart of gods! I'm GIVING with a sense of GRATITUDE for everything! It's not about getting, I'm GIVING! And with these open hands, with my palms turn up, I am open to receiving. Blessed Be! (added on for the walking version of this prayer, preferably barefoot on the bare ground) As I bless this land under my feet, this land blesses me. As this land blesses me, I in turn bless this land. We are infinitely connected, above and below. My body IS this Earth, earth is my body. I love you and am filled with gratitude. Blessed Be. (adapted from words spoken by Ariel Gatoga in his "Real Prosperity" podcast).

(Note to Norm: what a beautiful, inspired recipe! Also, YUM!)

...and when the busy herbalist is done with her day, Hummingbird developed:

"Sweetest Dreams Tea" by Hummingbird

3 parts skullcap

1 part rose petals

1 part rose hips

1 part mugwort

Infuse in recently-boiled water and let steep for several minutes. Enjoy before bed.

It's a delight to see my students growing and sharing their experiences making magical, medicinal brews. Every body is different, and every herbalist is different, too. Finding what works for you and sharing your personal experiences helps us all to grow. Do you have a tea recipe you'd like to share with The Witch's Garden? Feel free to post in comments below.

I live in an animated universe, where everything has a spirit. In my world, living things each have an indwelling spirit, or self-hood, as well as the collective spirit of the larger designations to which they belong. For example, in my home, each of my 5 cats has a distinct personality, color, body shape, name, and voice. Yet they definitely also all share certain qualities of 'cat-ness', including 'catitude', the love of chasing string and feathers, and wide, haunting eyes of doom that will bore into your soul when the food dish happens to be empty. So, when I think of the 'spirit of cat', I tend to think of those shared characteristics. And when I think about an individual cat, say my little Obi-Wan, I think of his particular version of catness: fluffy, opinionated, middle-of-the-night-singing, fetch-playing, prancing-with-joy-at-his-own-cleverness.

The same goes for my understanding of humans, other animals, crystals, and plants. Each has its own unique nature, but is also part of the great chorus of our kind in Gaea's song. The spirit of Willow has been an ally to me since I was a small child, and would swing in her branches with my friend Molly. Although I now live across the country from that Willow and she may even be gone from that yard by this point, I still consider her spirit, within the larger spirit of Willow, to be my friend. I have a good relationship with the whole family of Willow, wherever I go, with specific Willow friends in many cities and along country roads where I have pulled over and stopped the car, or departed from the footpath, to hug and greet these beautiful, gentle, healing trees. I made friends with the Willow on Allston Way in Berkeley when I lived near there, and would go visit her frequently, making full moon tinctures from the bark of her withes. There is a gorgeous willow above a gazing pool in Mountainview Cemetery in Piedmont where I go to commune with the dead water women and make wishes. There is one in the middle of a cow pasture in Occidental that I can't touch because she's on private property, but I gaze upon her each time I am on that lonely road and feel her comforting arms reaching out to me on the breeze. There is one in Avebury, England, that took my breath away, which I long to visit again.

Willow is known for many magical and practical purposes, and from a quick look at the lore, it is easy to see why she is quite a historical favorite among witches and other practitioners of folk spirituality as well as those who practice organized religions. Robert Graves writes in The White Goddess that Willow is sacred among the early Jews, who celebrated a festival called Day of Willows. The Willow is associated with the Underworld in Greek myth, particularly sacred to Hekate, Hermes, and Persephone, but also to Hera and Zeus. Myth proposes that a Willow grew outside the cave on Crete where Zeus was born. Willow makes a strong fiber and her bark eases pain. The dramatic majesty of her trailing, sighing branches are a haven for those who speak the language of trees and hear the music of the wind. She is the tender granny to children who build forts, sing the afternoons away, and play hide-and-seek among her locks. Paul Beyerl reports that, "planting a willow during your lifetime is said to protect you when taking final leave of your body. The willow (or direct descendant through a cutting) must be thriving at your death."

Working with Willow as an ally means many different things to me. It means taking the time to know about her distinct leaf shape and the sharp, sweet scent of her. It means leaving offerings of my own hair when I take any of hers. It means going on annual trips to visit her in various places, and to tie ribbons to her or to gently knot one of her branches without breaking it, adorning her with beauty as I whisper my heart's desires to her. It means making medicine from her in respectful ways. It means bringing sweets to the Willow and placing them at her feet each Spring in gratitude for the many times her medicine soothed my aching bones during the winter.

Finding one's way with an herbal ally is a lot like finding one's way with a new friend. Some are shy, and we have to tread gently in order to earn their trust. Some are bold, and will loudly come knocking in our lives. Some are gentle guides. Others, like narcotic plants, require strong boundaries. And some turn out to just not be who we thought they were, surprising us with the emergence of a vast inner world when we take the time to really listen to them.

Taking the time to really listen is, for many of us, the hardest part. We all know what it is like to want to feel better NOW, or for the magic to work NOW. Impatience is one of the qualities that many humans have in common. Learning to move beyond impatience into deep listening is one of the greatest skills an herbalist can have. Plants speak in their own ways, on their own terms, and at their own times. Like wise Elders, they possess great perspective. And sometimes, the only way for them to convey that perspective is via a long, long story that takes quite a while to tell. Such is the way of root and bark medicine. It is a long-term relationship.

Other herbs are little firecrackers who can give you a whole LOT of information in a very short amount of time! Pay attention before you touch your eyes after rubbing that cayenne balm on your aching back! You only have to learn that lesson once, usually. Such is the way of flowers and berries. Pay attention and heed their brief life cycle! Every lesson for personal transformation under crisis you will ever need can be seen through the lens of that cycle. In fact, if you grow tomatoes, you will notice that they tend to only get more prolific and abundant the more stressed they are. City tomatoes grow in cramped pots can be some of the sweetest and most delicious, because they adapted and learned to thrive under stress. What a helpful lesson for someone with a lot of responsibility.

In The Witch's Garden this month, we have been working on finding our herbal allies for our year of study together. I am strongly feeling plaintain this year. Her rich, full flavor is friendly to my tongue, and her benefits of calming the body's stress reactions and nourishing the eyes are in alignment with goals I am holding for myself this year. The more I read and research about her, the more she feels like the right choice for me. How about you? Do you have an herbal ally you are working with right now?

Here are some questions to consider in beginning to work with an herbal ally:

How shall I form a basis of experience that is honoring? Seek one out, grow one, join a community garden where they have one growing, contact your city arborist, look up photos and illustrations so you can begin to identify them in the wild, drink tea and make a ceremony of it, make a tincture, make art about it or write a poem honoring it. Use your imagination. Vest it with meaning and see what happens.

I can't really 'hear' any herb calling me. What do I do? Flip through a book of medicinal herbs or look at a list online and let your eye fall on names that sort of 'jump out' at you. Look them up and be careful of what is recommended- are there any prohibitions or warnings? Heed them. Proceed with care. Find samples of the 5 or 6 that you felt drawn to and make a medium-strength tea of each. Allow it to steep for about 10 minutes. Sample each without sweetener or any additives at all. Which one delights your tongue? Revisit the books. What did they say about that one again? Often, you will be delighted and amazed at how much this herb fits your life right now.

I've been drinking the teas, making the tinctures, and taking the herb for a while now. I'm not sure anything is happening. What should I do? For most herbal allies, in order to really cultivate a strong relationship, they need to be taken for 3 months. A minimum of 2 weeks is, well, quite the minimum. But most herbs need longer. Hence the warning to mark any prohibitions. Some herbs should not be taken consistently for that long. These might include purgatives or herbs that are linked with liver damage from long-term usage. But many herbs are gentle enough that they can be taken every day. And since they are that gentle, they also might need to take their time to have an effect on the body. Many of us are accustomed to pill culture, where popping a pill can have nearly-instantaneous dramatic effects. Some herbs do, as well, but think of it this way: sometimes you might need a paramedic, but other times you just need to have a regular office check-up. Both are essential to good health. Building a strong alliance with a gentle herb takes time.

This coming month in the Witch's Garden, we'll be discussing Teas and Incantations, and stirring the cauldron a bit! Check back for updates and recipes in late Feb. Blessings of Imbolc to you!

Whenever I catch a cold or some associated respiratory illness, it almost invariably moves into my lungs. Ten years of smoking nearly a pack of cigarettes per day earlier in my life have left my lungs more vulnerable than other parts of my body, and those germs just love to move in and rough things up. I developed this cough syrup recipe because taking commercial cough syrup for several weeks at a time is really hard on my body. I'm one of those people who gets jittery and uncomfortable from dextromethorphen hydrobromide.

Since cold season is upon us with the children's return to school (a veritable shopping mall of germs where everything is, unfortunately, free) and the first cooling changes in the weather, I thought others might want to try this project at home. Please let me know how it works for you.

You will need:-3 cups of water-1 big handful each of mullein leaf, coltsfoot leaf, wild cherry bark-1 handful of horehound leaf (optional)-1 handful elderberries (optional)-2 cups of honey-if you want a thicker syrup, you might add a small amount of pectin. I don't really think it's necessary, but some like it that way.-1 cup brandy or vegetable glycerine (if using glycerine, reduce honey to one cup)

Bring water to a boil in a covered pot, add herbs, and boil covered until 3 cups of water is reduced to 2 cups of dark liquid. At this point, it should taste somewhat vile.

Remove from heat and strain well, pressing herbs into strainer with a heavy item to make sure as much liquid as possible is squeezed out.

Stir in honey (add pectin directly to honey, then stir in. A single tablespoon is enough).

Add brandy or vegetable glycerine to preserve.

Shake well before using, as natural ingredient settle to the bottom.

Adult Dosage is 2 tablespoons every 2-4 hours as needed. For me, this syrup has loosened a tight chest, helped me eliminate the mucus in a wet cough, and has eased and soothed dry, hacking coughs.

Dosage for children under twelve varies: 1/2 tsp every two hours for littles, 1 tsp every two hours for children 4-8, 1 tbsp every 2 hours for children 8-12. Use your own judgment and adjust for children who are smaller or larger than average.

This time last year, I was looking for somewhere fun to take my sweetie Albert for his birthday. We ended up heading up to Chico for the World Music Festival there. It was a really fun weekend and I highly recommend the event for those who like diverse music and don't like huge crowds. It's smaller and more intimate than other festivals I've attended, and I really felt like I got to connect more with the performers, vendors, and other attendees.

While we were visiting for the festival, an open-air market was happening just outside of town in the more rural farming community where the almond growers make their trade. This was a proper "Hoes Down" kind of affair that felt like a throwback to the festivals of my youth in upstate New York, with folks selling their handmade quilts and rag rugs and knit items, jewel-toned jars of homemade jam and pickles, whimsical yard decor, and a classic car show. I grew up going to events like these in the rural areas around my small hometown of Olean. It was fun to touch that country energy again. Urban farmer's markets in the Bay Area, with highbrow marketing, rapid turnaround, thronging crowds and long lines, are fun and exciting, but they are not quite like these homespun, slow-moving events. Different birds altogether.

I passed a booth where an elderly man was selling a small selection of preserved foods: pickled peppers, beans, and cucumbers. I had been hoping to find a pickled bean vendor, as spicy dill beans are among my favorite snacks. I stepped in to the booth and inquired after a jar of beans: how much? Spicy or not?

The man looked up slowly. It took him a moment to answer, and when he did, his voice was tight. "Well, I don't know all the ingredients in those beans. I don't really know all what is in any of it." I stepped back a bit, surprised, and said, "I'm sorry?"

"Well," he said, "My wife made these last Fall. She died this year. Now I have to move out of our house, so I am here selling this stuff. It's all really good. I just can't eat it all before I go..." his voice trailed off.

Oh.

Well, you know, I bought a jar of those beans. There was no way I couldn't, with a story like that. He didn't tell me the story so he could make a buck. This wasn't about that. He told me the story because it was the truth of his life and his loss, and there was a sense that pretty soon, stories would be all he had left.

Aren't stories all we actually ever have? Any item we have is actually only a symbol: the fruit of a labor, the story of a moment in someone's life.

The beans don't even taste all that good. They are tough and stringy, canned late in the season, not tender. I ate a couple, then gave up. They're sitting in my fridge right now. Call me sentimental, but I have not been able to bring myself to throw them out during any of my major kitchen cleaning sessions this past year.

Instead, at Samhain, I'll take them out to compost and ask that the spirit of this lady please not be offended. I'll tell her that I was glad to meet her husband and I hope he is well. I'll tell her that I hope they have a happy reunion when it is time. I never asked, and I wonder if somewhere, they have a son or daughter who is setting up this year's pickled beans.

Thinking about Ancestral Recipes, I am drawn to my cookbooks. I have three family recipe books. There is one that was passed down from my grandmother's oldest sister to her other sister to her other sister to my grandmother to my mom. In it, each one inscribed the words "Pray for me" under her name. I have the Meta Givens 2-volume set, and I have a cookbook that my mom put together for my sister, brother and I, with room in the back for our own recipes as well as some of our childhood favorites.

That last little book is lots of fun, as it reflects the diverse cultural heritage of my family. Right next to my deceased Grandmother's cole slaw recipe (be it known that my Grandmother and I share a love of cocktail olives in everything) is my Korean sister's recipe for Polish Lazy Golabki, the next page is my French-Canadian mother's recipe for Korean BBQ Bulgogi, and there are family recipes for Pineapple upside-down cake, tabbouleh, kim chee, Laotian soup, and babka. The Matthews Tribe is, literally, a one-family United Nations. Flipping through the book, I see a few recipes are missing, and I make a mental note to ask my mom about them when I am home next month.

I started thinking about all of this because I was doing a little bit of pickling this weekend. Here is the recipe for my refrigerator pickles that you can make very simply. Albert and I did some sweet and sour dill pickles, some blueberry jelly, and some jalapeno carrots. There is a shift happening in my life right now and my focus is going to more domestic considerations, like food prep, gardening, and my family. My store The Sacred Well is about to reach its five-year anniversary, and now that it is becoming more self-sufficient, I have a little more energy to direct inwards. So we built raised beds, planted lettuce, herbs, and veggies, and are doing some preserving. My friend and downstairs neighbor Rowan (who has also been canning like mad recently) noted mildly that we are, "homesteading." I see what she means in the feeling of it. I just put in a few pepper plants, and I'm excited to get some of my mom's hot pepper jelly going.

How about you? Are you interested in sharing an Ancestral Recipe with me here? Leave it in the comments section.

Last week I yearned for the refrigerator pickles my mom used to make when I was small, so I made up a big batch, slightly altering the recipe. I tend to like them sweet and sour and dill all at the same time. I brought them to a party and they were a big hit there, as well as around my house. Super simple. Enjoy!

Begin: boiling water and pouring it into your pickling jars to sit while you mix up the recipe. At the last minute, dump out the water and pour the pickles in before refrigerating.

You will need:

2 large jars or 4 small jars with tight-fitting lids

6-9 good-sizes pickling cucumbers, sliced (depending on size, go with more if they are on the small side)

My friend Andrea Young first taught me a version of this drink, and the recipe has morphed a bit since then. It is a perfect cooler for your 4th of July celebrations, or just for long, hot days. Replaces vitamins, quenches thirst, and provides gentle internal cleansing. If you are less interested in the health benefits and just want a hip new twist on the Cape Cod to serve at your party, mix vodka into this and enjoy :)

You will need:

1 bottle of unsweetened cranberry juice

3 cups of water

4 organic Meyer lemons (regular lemons work, too)

three sprigs of fresh rosemary

a sprig of fresh marjoram (optional)

honey/brown sugar to taste (optional, but recommended unless you want quite a pucker)

Scrub and slice your lemons into quarters, squeeze them and drop them into water (skins on.) Bring water to a boil with lid on pot. Boil for approx 10 minutes, then strain and add honey/sugar. You are basically making hot lemonade. Mix in cranberry juice. Bruise the rosemary/marjoram by gently rolling it between your hands for about 5 seconds, then drop into the warm mixture. Place the whole thing in the fridge to chill for several hours. Remove herb sprigs and serve cold. So refreshing!

(Confidential to those who tend to get bladder infections and UTI's - this drink is super-soothing and nourishing to the system when you are suffering with this uncomfortable condition.)

Read more]]>alan1@bbimedia.com (Super User)Culture BlogsMon, 02 Jul 2012 09:17:35 -0700St. John's Eve: Herbs & Lorehttp://witchesandpagans.com/pagan-culture-blogs/st-john-s-eve-herbs-lore.html
http://witchesandpagans.com/pagan-culture-blogs/st-john-s-eve-herbs-lore.html Happy Solstice! While today and tonight are the actual Solstice, on June 23 we celebrate St. John's Eve and on June 24 St. John's Day, which are hugely important for folk herbalists.

Likely a Christian adaptation of the pre-existing Summer Solstice festivals, St. John's Eve honors midsummer with bonfires and herbal customs. The phenomenally powerful herbal ally St. John's Wort (hypericum perforatum, internally taken as an anti-depressant, internally and externally applied as a potent anti-bacterial/anti-viral) blooms right around this time each year, turning beautiful yellow flower-faces to the Sun.

On St. John's Eve, venture into the garden at midnight and gather your St. John's Wort flowers. Allow them to dry, flat on cookie racks or a baking sheet lined with a linen towel, for a day or so. Then, loosely chop and place the flowers, leaves, and stems in a jar. Cover with olive oil, jojoba oil, or your favorite other skin-friendly oil. Place the jar in a sunny window or on an outdoor altar for a few weeks, shaking gently on a daily basis. The oil will deepen into a wonderful shade of red. The depth of the red color, in Polish folklore, is indicative of how much love surrounds the maker of the oil. After a few weeks, strain this oil and use it topically as a moisturizing and cleansing oil for topical skin conditions. I typically mix in some comfrey root, peppermint leaf, calendula flower, and lavender flower as well, and the resulting oil is my all-purpose treatment for itchy skin, healing wounds, scars, eczema, and for softening rough spots.